I Sing
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The Girl Who Must Not Sing Ch. 10 free porn video
‘I see your visit was a short one. Is that good news or bad?’
‘Neither as far as I can tell, sire. The new carer is going well as any other, considering there is so little for him to do. Better seeing how he is so new to this life. I doubt the problem stems from him or his crashing through her roof the other day.’
‘Something deeper then. Knowing our luck that will make it doubly hard to put to rest.’
‘She isn’t a child anymore.’
‘Did I suggest she was? …Ah, you mean… but she’s fifteen, that’s been going for years now.’
‘Physically, perhaps. What if her power had been holding the rest in check until recently.’
‘And what would you suggest we do about that theory? Poke around inside her head and see if anything’s come loose? Even if it were possible, would anyone want to? You know what Dawn’s words say about gazing into the void.’
‘I know, sire. I only fear that, if this continues, we mayn’t have the luxury of looking away.’
===
It needed to be something short. A long book and the girl might lose interest. He needed a story that could be resolved in an afternoon. Besides, if she did stay enveloped in the tale, this way she wouldn’t pressure him to stay for hours until it ended.
Maybe take two books? Eldrian wondered to himself. The shelves weren’t turning up very many options that the girl might enjoy. There were the joke stories, yes, but she’d been so serious during his last encounters.
Two books posed its own problems. Books weren’t supposed to leave the library at all, let alone in pairs or more. Hiding two would be twice as hard as one.
Don’t do this, called the little voice of dissent. She won’t even care.
A part of Eldrian agreed. A part that had been growing by the minute. But it hadn’t infested deep enough yet to win out so it went ignored instead.
Running out of ideas, Eldrian plucked the book of Dawn off a shelf. A bit dry, maybe, but its stories were short and they were all about Dawn’s miracles and actions over her hundreds of years.
He stowed the book beneath the girl’s lunch tray, clutched in his fingertips. The jailers were taller so their vantage point would keep his hands from looking too strangely placed.
Head tilted firmly to his feet, Eldrian scurried through the hallways and across the covered bridge that joined the manor’s parts. His legs pushed him up the spiral stairs that led ever upwards to the top of the girl’s tower.
===
‘She prola wouldn’t even understand,’ said Dodeb, laying upside down upon his bed in such a way that his legs went up the wall. ‘She’s not like us, ah? Everything’s different to her. That’s why she kills it.’
‘No it’s not,’ Eldrian replied. The reading venture hadn’t gone over very well. It hadn’t gone over at all. He must have been in that darkened room for nearly an hour before giving up, and no sign of the girl. Not even her spectral voice creeping into his ears.
The general consensus among the other boys in the dorm seemed to be that he was crazy. Bad enough to volunteer in taking care of the girl, worse that he wanted to talk to her.
‘You only want to cause you haven’t been here long enough,’ bossed Bossman.
Eldrian looked at him, shook his head.
Bossman retaliated by jabbing his finger out. ‘Ah, it’s not just the killings she does. There was a thunderstorm last year and she made the lightning hit the house.’
‘All of it?’ Eldrian asked.
‘Nah, just some.’
A coincidence. Besides, almost every one of the past few days revealed a new event that had been blamed on the girl. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter at the moment. The girl didn’t want to talk either way. That or she hadn’t seen him, but with Dodeb she had always been regular in coming out to eat.
‘And she killed her parents, so leave her alone. Even if you do make friends with her, she might still kill you,’ Dodeb warned.
So much consensus on the badness of the girl. He should have felt like listening to the warnings. He didn’t.
As another day of failure slowly trickled to a close, Eldrian thought back to the dream he had had of the girl. A tangle of vines slowly eating her and the manor. Vines thicker than any in the wild, feeding off her to grow massive and lush. Still so vivid a dream. Normally it would have almost faded by now. A memory of a memory. Against the overwhelming warnings to do otherwise, it seemed like the only reason to push forwards anymore.
===
Sometimes the earmuffs made it hard to tell when the dreamland had faded away to reality. This was one of those mornings. The girl never dreamed of sound so the dull, cobwebbed beams of the ceiling could have just as easily been a vast scape of the ethereal, complete with monstrously over-sized spiders.
That was a dream she had quite often, the house becoming infested with creepy crawlies, twisted beyond nature. Things with long, spindly legs and hooks on the ends of their feelers. Things that watched her from the walls or outside the windows. Crooked creatures that probably didn’t exist outside the dream. If they did, she’d never seen one. Nor did she fear them. She didn’t have her earmuffs on in the dream. She didn’t have nightmares.
Sometimes her voice wandered in the mornings, down to the dorms where most of the children still slept. She tried not to wake them as she watched. Some were heavier sleepers than others and these ones she had learned a while ago. If she woke before the sun rise, she would watch one all morning. Watch as her voice crept in and did strange things. Watch as the child shivered and trembled and sweated but didn’t awaken until the last, agonizing second of their dream-selfs life. She never knew what horrors her voice instilled in these sleeping children for she had never seen them herself. She didn’t have nightmares. The crooked things watched for fear that she might escape.
‘Quiet mother,’ said the girl as she threw back the covers to her bed. The words echoed silently in the room and numb in her mind.
The girl stomped over to her dresser and threw on whatever her hands found first. Mother and father had breakfast ready downstairs. They were off to worship Dawn today. Dawn’s day brought good breakfasts that sometimes had meat with—
A lurch brought the girl’s steps to a stop and her fingers curled tight around the handle of her bedroom door.
Mother? she wondered.
Time must have run away from her as an ache in the girl’s outstretched arm snapped her out of wondering where that word had come from. Father too. Never had either been appropriate. She must have had both at one stage but such a time was lost to memory. Instead she had phantoms. A life that burst into existance, taking over her own and pretending to be real, until something snapped her back to the truth.
A dream still. But here she stood, clad freshly with the morning.
The girl sat down and clutched the earmuffs on her head, one in each hand. They’d been feeling tighter lately.
No, tighter didn’t fit. even when removed, as they had been in the garden a few days ago, something still felt wrong. It was her head that felt tighter. As though it were slowly filling up.
No, the girl thought. Such an idea didn’t bear entertainment, besides the fact it made no sense.
Paetin, that wiry Skytouched, had been stopping around a fair bit lately. Trying to talk to her. In the past his visits had been short and confined to once a month, around the time that a new kid started bringing in her food. Part of her wanted things to go back to that. Another part, growing by the day, wished he’d stay longer. Yet he clearly didn’t want to. She could see the same fear in his eyes that showed in everyone.
The girl forced herself from her bedroom and trod towards one of the windows with their dusty boards keeping out the light. She sat down and
sent out her voice. Nobody in the gardens yet. No children, at least. The dew glistening on leaves and spiderwebs told her that the morning had only just begun. Shadows crept long behind their makers.
The outside didn’t hold anything of interest. Instead she turned her voice to the black doors that guarded her tower. She looked just in time to see them closing. Immediately she swept her vision through the room. The boy had just walked in and presently squatted to the floor to retrieve the tray with her breakfast.
Her voice went to the tray instead so as to not tip him off about her watching. It floated in his hands, across the room, and landed upon her table. The girl looked to the door again. Yesterday it had taken nearly an hour to open and close with his departure. And the boy had brought books too. Books!
‘Wait,’she said.
The black doors stopped in their opening swing. She shifted her voice to him and saw him looking at her, puzzled. That might have made her mad in the past. But now she had begun to trust he didn’t come to stare. Not only that.
‘Why dajoo want to talk to me?’ the girl asked. As always, her voice sounded muffled through her own head. Nothing reached her ears from the outside. Who knew what she really sounded like. Sometimes, if she didn’t focus enough on speaking, the other person would tilt their head and mouth a word like ‘what?’ or ‘pardon’.
Today the boy mouthed, ‘I thought you might be bored.’
Bored. Until recently, the girl hadn’t realized that there could be a thing known as bored. Did that mean she had been bored all the time without end, or never once before?
‘Bored?’ she asked.
‘Ah, because you’re always stuck in this tower.’
Stuck in this tower. Another concept that had been slowly creeping into her consciousness. Until now she hadn’t recognized it. But she wasn’t really stuck in the tower. She’d just had a vacation out to the garden. Only… they never let her go very far, did they. And she could never leave between those times.
The girl couldn’t think of anything more to say so silence crept in. Somehow it seemed even more silent than the usual kind. As if the world had closed down. No moving or settling from the house as the morning heated up. Nothing in the world except herself, this boy and the room they both occupied. Time could have ended at the walls.
‘Do you want me to go?’ the boy asked and he moved to do so.
‘No, wait… you can stay.’
===
The table had a wobble to it, something that Eldrian had never noticed before. It didn’t wobble when he set the tray down. Only when the weight of his arms resting there fought with the weight of hers. He tried not to make it move too much.
The girl’s room. The girl’s tower. The girl’s place. All of it dark as ever. Vocals were fairly indifferent when it came to whether or not a room was lit but it felt so gloomy this way.
‘I don’t know what to talk about,’ said the girl. This time her voice had a screech buried deep inside it. Like two pieces of rusty metal scraping together, only muted.
‘What’s your name?’
The black streaks of the girl’s occumarks, like tears of ink, fell upon him. ‘Name? I don’t have a name.’
‘Everyone has a name. It’s the first thing your parents give you.’ A little knot tightened in his chest when Eldrian said this. He pushed it away.
‘I don’t have parents. Nobody here does.’
‘But everyone used to. What name did yours give you?’
The girl turned silent and motionless. Without eyes, and in the dark, it became near impossible to figure our what she might be thinking, if she was thinking at all. Watching those streaks of charcoal skin, cold and emotionless, revealed nothing but emptiness. What hid behind them, Eldrian had to wonder, and he grew ever more fearful that he might have overstepped an invisible line. Then she spoke.
‘I doh’ know. What’s your name?’
He frowned. ‘It’s Eldrian, remember?’
Another second of silence. This had to be more thinking. Other folk, even other Vocals, moved or did things when they thought. Flickers of the eyes or twitches of the face. The girl went still and mute as a statue.
‘Eldrian’s a good name,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want one.’
‘You don’t want what? A name?’
She nodded. ‘I don’t need it. I know who I am without one. So does everyone else’
He couldn’t find a fault in that reasoning. At the same time, it seemed like the sort of reasoning that, just because it had no faults, still managed to be wrong. Its flawlessness became its flaw.
‘The jailers never told you your name?’
The girl shook her head. ‘Or they don’t know it either.’
‘Never? Never in all the time you’ve been here?’
No.
‘How long have you been here?’
The girl became still with thought. ‘As long as I can remember. The first thing I remember is looking at a window downstairs with a spider living in a crack in the frame. A little black one that had just caught something in its web. But I don’t know if that’s real or a dream.’
‘How old were you— wait, downstairs? You used to live downstairs?’
She nodded and her curtains of black hair bobbed with her head. ‘In the house.’
‘When did they put you up here?’
For a moment, the girl froze with thought as normal. But her occumarks soon creased and her face folded in discomfort. ‘When I… and he…’
She stopped again as her fingers curled to form fists. A shot of fear stabbed into Eldrian’s heart at the thought that he might have instigated something unsavory. When the girl began to speak again, he realized he had indeed.
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